


Desire

by StanfordSam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blindfolds, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 23:12:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6170425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StanfordSam/pseuds/StanfordSam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean pays a visit to Palo Alto, he finds himself locked in a closet, playing 'Seven Minutes In Heaven' with none other than a blindfolded Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desire

**Author's Note:**

> It's been so long since I have posted something, so I decided to go with this little ficlet. I started it months ago, and decided to finish it off today. So, I'm sorry if there seems to be a slight change of writing style in between. I didn't edit it very well, and unfortunately do not have a beta, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. Criticism is appreciated! Please enjoy and feel free to leave any suggestions or tell me what you like about my writing!

A dare. A simple dare. A simply stupid dare. Dean hadn’t thought anything of it - a bar game, something to do, something to take his mind off of his reasoning for visiting Palo Alto. It didn’t occur to Dean that University students would be at this bar, Stanford bound students. 'Do it', they said. 'It’ll be fun', they said. Dean should never have allowed himself to be convinced into doing this, he shouldn’t have listened to the mischievous group of preppy, large-breasted sorority girls. He cursed himself for letting his downstairs brain get the better of him.

When Dean entered that janitor’s closet, he was expecting a blonde, maybe in a mini-skirt and fishnets with a blindfold on - not his brother with a blindfold on. He was about to turn on his heels and forget this ever happened, when someone - Sammy to be exact - clutched onto the leather of his jacket.

He heard Sam’s gasp of approval. “Oh, I love a man in a leather jacket.” Sammy breathes out through nearly clenched teeth, he moved his hand to the back of Dean’s head, his long fingers lazily treading through Dean’s short hair. “Maybe I’ll give you more than seven minutes.”

Dean froze. He didn’t know how to respond, hell, he didn’t know how to move his feet. He shouldn’t let this go on, he shouldn’t humiliate his little brother like this. Dean bit down on his bottom lip - hard - he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t let Sammy know it was him. 

“Tell me your name.” Sam spoke up, the itchy material of the blindfold tickling his nose, causing him to twitch restlessly, a cherry blush dusting across his cheeks. “I want to know what I should cry out while you fuck me.” He leaned forwards and presses a sweet, gentle kiss to Dean’s lips - contradicting the filth that had just been spilling from Sammy’s mouth.

Damn. He couldn’t answer, and he couldn’t deny the fact his cock was slowly stirring about within the confinement of his worn jeans. There was just one way to make Sam shut up - one way to keep him from asking any more questions - and that was to kiss him back. Dean slowly and hesitantly returned the kiss, his hands on either side of Sammy’s arms, bracing him steady as he tilted his head to deepen the contact. Fuck. It was the sloppiest kiss of Dean’s life, and Sam must hardly have been enjoying it, but as they continued, Dean could feel it meld into something more. Something tingling their lips with ecstasy. 

Sam seemed wobbly at the knees, as if they’d just buckle out on him. That caused Dean to smirk, his stomach pooling with pride. Sam wanted him - the feeling Dean had been longing for was finally here - but it was different, mixed with a sharp pang of guilt. He was going to hell for this, but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop. He finally had the chance to be with Sam, and he wasn’t about to let his conscience ruin it. Dean ignored the little voice in his head that was screaming at him, trying to convince him to stop.

The kiss had seemed so short, when seven minutes passed, it didn’t even feel real. He almost stopped to say something, but he remembered, Sammy can’t know it’s him. As Sam began to reach around to pull off the blindfold, Dean leaned forward to press one last kiss to his baby brother’s lips. “Can I see you again?” Sam questioned against Dean’s full, slick lips. When there was no answer, Sam continued. “Okay, Mr. Shy. Meet me tonight,” He whispered his whereabouts in Dean’s ear. “I’ll leave the door unlocked, so you better be there by ten o’clock. And don’t worry, I’ll wear the blindfold then too.” He nipped his older brother’s bottom lip before letting him exit the closet.

Damn. Dean needed to get out of there to relieve himself. But as luck would have it, there was a crowd of University students waiting outside of the small janitor’s closet. They were all cheering and making loud noises, teasing Dean as he fought to make his way out of the bar before Sam could see him. Before Sam could find out Dean was ever there.

He looked down at his watch, running his hand over his face. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. He shouldn’t have done that. It’d be far too risky to go to Sammy’s apartment, to let Sam hear his moans - Sam knows what Dean sounds like, he’s walked in on some of Dean’s escapades one too many times. Dean cursed loudly and smashed his fist against the steering wheel. 

But as fate would have it, Dean found himself standing at the door of Sam’s apartment, at ten o’clock - on the dot. He slowly turned the doorknob, entering the small room - looking around made him feel warm and gooey inside. It fit Sam, he could practically smell his brother - a scent he has missed dearly. Dean treaded towards the bedroom, finding Sam sitting down on the bed, his long legs awkwardly crossed, twiddling his thumbs as he waited for Dean. He wanted to take the blindfold off, to look into Sam’s hazel eyes, but he just stepped closer, closing the door behind himself.

Sam’s head snapped up when he heard the slam of the door, a smile spreading across his face. Damn those adorable dimples. “I knew you’d come.” He began, slowly straightening his legs out so they hung over the side of the bed. “I hope you don’t think the candles are excessive. I just think they smell nice.” Sam chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck - something Dean knew Sam tended to do whenever he was nervous.

Dean hadn’t noticed the candles when he walked in the room, all his attention was purely on Sam. But he took a look in the room, pinpointing at least twenty candles spread all throughout the room. Dean heard something crunch under his boot - a rose petal, which he saw were all scattered across the hardwood floor, some even on the white quilt on the bed. He gently pressed Sam back against the mattress as he pressed an affectionate kiss to his brother’s lips. This is perfect - this would be perfect if only he could be with Sam as himself, not some stranger.

Sam whined at the contact, threading his fingers through the soft material of Dean’s black t-shirt. He arched his back, trying to press his crotch up against his older brother’s, creating friction to relieve the ache of both of their hard-ons. Dean moaned into Sam’s mouth, freezing momentarily as he realized he had made a sound. Although, Sam hadn’t seemed to notice, Dean’s noise being masked by one of Sam’s sweet whimpers.

“I wish you’d tell me your name.” Sam commented in a whisper, the words muffled against Dean’s pouted lips. Dean couldn’t let Sam talk, because if Sam talked, he knew he would have to answer. He was easily able to distract Sam, his younger brother soon becoming more concerned about what he was doing with his body, rather than what he had been curious about. Dean trailed his hand down Sam’s chest to his stomach, sliding his hand up Sammy’s silly old purple dog shirt. He always made fun of Sam for that thing, but he found it adorable that Sam still wore it, even when he was trying to seduce some stranger.

Sam gasped at the skin-to-skin contact, his breath hitching as he squirmed at the touch, his erection pressing tightly against his jeans. He hissed out, wanting nothing more than to feel Dean buried inside of his ass. Dean fumbled to undo the button before dragging the zipper down, cupping his hand over Sammy’s cock, the boxer briefs the only thing between him and his brother’s perfect length.

Dean groaned and squeezed the hard shaft, causing Sam to jolt, his hands desperately clawing at Dean’s shoulder blades, the material of Dean’s shirt tightly encased in his fists. With a swift tug, there was no longer any material hiding the sight of his erect cock. Dean felt like a teenager, grunting as he tried to will himself not to come right then and there. He couldn’t wait any longer - peeling his own clothes off of himself leaving nothing but the amulet Sam had given him one Christmas. 

“There is-” Sam cut himself off with a sharp moan, feeling Dean’s hand wrap around both of their throbbing lengths, working his fist up and down at a steady rhythm. “There is lube on the nightstand…” He managed to choke out the words, bringing his hand to tangle through his shaggy hair, gripping as he tossed and turned in pure pleasure. Dean averted his gaze just to the right of the bed, hissing when he ended the friction between their leaking cocks, grabbing the lube, popping the cap off.

Dean covered his fingers with the slick lubricant, his index finger beginning to prod and massage Sam’s pink, puckered hole. He took his sweet time - enjoying the whimpers and whines that slipped past his baby brother’s lips, which were reddened from smothering kisses, and indented from his own teeth. It was almost torture, having to wait this long, but Dean wanted this to be memorable - he wanted this to be scorched into Sam’s head forever.

When Sammy’s cock sputtered again, come trickling down his length, Dean decided it was finally time to give him some relief. He circled Sam’s hole once more before he pushed his finger inside, almost surprised by how tightly Sam seemed to wrap around a single finger. Dean wondered if this had been Sam’s first time - if he would give up his virginity to some stranger. He wrinkled his brow together, in a mixture of jealousy and delight. Dean couldn’t help but be resentful that Sam would give away his precious gift so easily, but he was grateful to be the one who had stumbled into the janitor’s closet earlier that night.

Dean continued steadily, alleviating some tension by rubbing the pad of his finger against Sam’s prostate - contented and satisfied at the sounds his brother was making. He pressed that sweet spot multiple times, knowing Sam could easily come just like that. Dean loved knowing he was the reason behind Sam’s pleasure, he repeated the same steps, like clockwork, each time he added another calloused finger. Eventually, Sam’s ass was full - three of Dean’s fingers working inside of him, causing him to leak out once again, his sticky release seeping onto the bed sheets, leaving a stain.

“I’m ready. Please- I need more, I don’t know how much longer I can-” Sam gasped, his cock jolting with another push against his prostate. “Please.” He sobbed, pink dusting across his cheeks, to match the color of his stretched out hole. Dean’s head was throbbing with ecstasy. He had never felt this much pleasure before and he hadn’t even begun. Dean shushed his baby brother with a tender kiss, extracting his wet fingers before adjusting on the mattress.

With a few squeaks of the old springs, Dean was positioned near Sam’s hole, the tip of his cock barely brushing against the cashmere-soft skin of his brother. He pumped his length in his hand with a fair amount of pressure, lining up and guiding his cock into Sam. Dean groaned out, feeling Sam’s walls suffocating his cock, causing some come to flow within Sammy. Sam clutched at the quilt, rose petals falling down onto the hardwood floor as he hissed, feeling warmth spreading inside of him. 

Sam ached at the fullness, clenching his hole around the rock-hard cock that had penetrated him, pushing back to give a signal of approval. “Move.” He said breathily, gasping and sobbing out quiet moans. “Move!” He repeated desperately. That’s all it took. Dean was thrusting in and out of his brother rhythmically, his release welling with each movement he made. He held a tight and forceful grip on Sammy’s waist, his hips sputtering forwards followed by a continuous huff of arousal. 

The headboard slammed against the wall, creating a steady stream of thumps. Sam knew that his neighbors could hear - his neighbors would know he was fucking. Dean revelled with the thought that there was someone else who knew, the thin walls unable to contain the sweet and sinful sounds the two brothers made. Sam reached up, his clammy hands clawing at Dean’s shoulders, attempting to steady enough to hold onto him. His fingers slipping, trailing along the silky, black cord around Dean’s neck - thumbing at the cold amulet. Dean froze - his eyes widening as he stared down at Sam. Fuck. Fuck.

Within that short moment, Dean prayed to every deity in existence that Sam hadn’t recognized the oh-so familiar design of the amulet. His troubled thoughts were soon interrupted by Sam’s whispers. “Don’t stop.” He requested, causing Dean to hesitantly begin his aching thrusts. Dean let out a loud exhale, relieved that his brother hadn’t been able to place the amulet - he pushed in and out, leaving a sweet trail of kisses along Sammy’s jaw, feeling his brother’s fingers threading through his short hair. 

It was over too soon. Dean watched as Sam’s release spilled out onto his abdomen, shortly and promptly followed by his own climax, filling Sammy with his sweet seed. He collapsed on top of his brother, lying there for a moment. Dean didn’t want to leave. But, he had no reason and no right to stay, so with another affectionate kiss, he pulled out and tore a few tissues from their box, cleaning themselves. The brothers said nothing, silence lurking between them as Dean stepped into his pants, and tugged on his shirt. He treaded towards the bedroom door, lifting his jacket and slipping on his boots. Dean heard Sam’s sigh of contentment, as he stepped out of the room, stopping when he heard his Sammy’s voice bid him goodbye. “Goodnight, Dean.”


End file.
